


Catch Me If You Can

by CousinSerena



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bets & Wagers, Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Dom/sub Play, M/M, Oral Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Sigils, Sub Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24963271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CousinSerena/pseuds/CousinSerena
Summary: Crowley makes a bet with Aziraphale.  It's the angel's turn to dom, but first he has to catch a demon.If he does, it's "winner takes all."
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 145
Collections: They're Switches Bitches! Zine





	Catch Me If You Can

**Author's Note:**

> This was my contribution to the "They're Switches, Bitches!" zine!

Aziraphale and Crowley sat enjoying a late, leisurely breakfast at the little table in the back of the bookshop. Rather, Aziraphale was enjoying breakfast, as he had quite an appetite. He had woken up that morning to find himself handcuffed to the headboard, then thoroughly ravished by his talented demon. Said demon now sat with a cup of black coffee regarding the angel intently, his expression unreadable.

  
“Something on your mind, dear?” asked Aziraphale.

  
Crowley grinned broadly. “You know, I’m the one that did the work earlier. I should be devouring those pastries.”

  
“You’re most welcome to devour a pastry, dear demon. You’ve earned it once again,” he smiled.

  
Crowley grinned and leaned across the table.  
“That’s just it. I should make you work for it next time. How would you like to play a game, Oh Angel mine? You know, spice things up a bit? Switch it up, as it were. The game’s called, Dominate a Demon.”

  
“Oh,” breathed Aziraphale. “Continue, please.”

  
“The game is, you do the ravishing, but only if you can catch me first.” He grinned wickedly as he poured a bit more tea. “And, there are stakes.”

  
Aziraphale paused in the middle of taking a bite.  
“Catch you? Like a wild animal? Well, that’s rather erotic,” he mused. “But just what do you mean, if I can catch you? I have both the wiles and the strength to do it.”

  
“Ha! Look, I’m just throwing the idea out there, I’m not expecting you’ll actually be able to do it--fun as it will be to see you try,” Crowley smirked.

  
“Terms, fiend?” _So, Crowley thought he couldn’t best him._

  
“Simple. You have to catch and overpower me, then you may thoroughly ravish me. But you fail, I get to give you a sound paddling while you say, ‘I’m just a Pillow Principality.’ Plus, I get blow jobs on demand for a week.”

  
“Really, Crowley! Your terms are outrageous. ‘Pillow Principality’ indeed. And if I somehow miraculously manage to catch and restrain you?”

  
“If you win, this is your prize,” said Crowley, gesturing at himself.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. ”Lovely, but not enough. If I win, I get to have my way with you _and_ you bring me pastries every morning.”

  
“I already bring you pastries every morning.”

  
“Be that as it may, if I win, I get breakfast in bed for a month. And you’ll bring it to me either nude, or in whatever enticing lingerie I choose.”

  
“Done,” said Crowley. “So, are we agreed, angel? Are we doing this?”

  
“Oh, most definitely, my dear.”

  
Aziraphale gathered the dishes. As he passed by Crowley, the demon muttered, “pillow principality.”

  
“I heard that, you fiend.”

The following Monday, their challenge seemingly forgotten, Aziraphale was up early sorting books. He had a box that needed moving from its temporary spot on the big round rug.  
“Crowley, dearest, would you mind coming here and lending a hand with something?”

  
“Sure, angel.”

  
Crowley ambled over to the rug where the angel stood. And then he froze.

  
As he’d crossed the edge of the rug, he’d sensed something. It was like a thickening of the air, as if he’d crossed a barrier. He’d only felt it a few other times in his life when he’d been-- _no_ , he thought. _It couldn’t be_. He reached his hands out to the edge of the rug. _Zap!_ A mild electric shock ran through his body. He moved along to another part of the rug’s edge. _Zap!_ An invisible electric fence surrounded him.

  
He narrowed his eyes, turning to glare at the angel. There he was, the bastard, grinning at him and raising his eyebrows in mock innocence.  
  
“Something wrong, dearest?”  
  
“Wrong?” he snarled. “Wrong? Why don’t you tell me, angel? Because I seem to be _trapped on your rug!_ ”  
  
“Ah, that. Yes, well, you see, suffice it to say there are sigils underneath.”  
  
Crowley’s mouth hung open. The absolute sneaky bastard. He’d made an entrapment circle and hidden it under the rug. Crowley was speechless.  
Aziraphale smirked in triumph.  
  
Crowley narrowed his eyes. “Well done, angel, you trapped me. But our strength is evenly matched. Just how do you propose to overpower me?”  
  
“My darling, I don’t have to. You see, I’ve created sigils that not only contain a demon but also compel said demon to obey my commands.”  
  
“Bullshit. There is no fucking way--”  
  
“Oh dear, such language. Be silent now.”  
  
The demon opened his mouth to retort but found himself choked off, as if something was pushing his voice back down.  
  
“And do not take a step.”  
  
Crowley’s feet were frozen to the spot. The obedience sigils worked. Fucking bastard angel was leering at him, practically licking his lips.  
  
“Green light, dear?”  
  
Crowley nodded, almost imperceptibly.  
  
“Safe signal?”  
  
Crowley crossed his fingers. Despite himself, he was getting aroused.  
  
“Good.” Aziraphale grinned and wriggled. “I’m actually quite proud. I have acquired some rare volumes on demonology over the centuries, and I found one with clear instructions on trapping a demon. And becoming its master.”  
  
He held his captive’s gaze steadily as he rolled up first one shirt sleeve and then the other, much like a doctor preparing for surgery. He advanced slowly, approaching the demon as one would a caged, unpredictable animal.  
  
“No fighting, dear. You may signal if you wish.”  
  
  
He cupped Crowley’s face in his hands. Then he bent in to kiss him, gently at first, then deeper as one hand travelled to the back of the demon’s head and tangled into his hair. His other hand traveled downward to cup his effort through his trousers. He was gratified to feel Crowley hardening under his touch.  
  
“Take your clothes off,” he commanded. “Shoes, shirt, then trousers and pants.”  
  
Crowley’s breath hitched. But he moved, compelled to obey. As he worked on his shoes and socks, Aziraphale snapped his fingers, miracling first an ottoman into the circle and then a small table and glass of sherry. Aziraphale took a seat, glass in hand, to enjoy the show as the demon stripped. Crowley had tossed his shirt aside and was now unbuckling his belt. He was blushing, to Aziraphale’s delight.  
  
Finally Crowley stood before him naked and flushed. The demon’s long cock was already hard, and Aziraphale took a moment to admire it.  
  
“Lovely. Now put your hands behind you, wrists together as if they were tied. You can still cross your fingers if you need to signal.”  
  
Crowley tried to resist. He wanted to make this difficult for the sneaky bastard angel. But his hands were pulled back as if by some invisible force, and he found his wrists locked together.  
  
“Still green, dear?”  
  
Crowley sulked.  
  
“Answer me. Nod or shake your head.”  
  
Crowley nodded.  
  
“Wonderful. Now stay still and be a good boy.”  
  
Aziraphale set his glass down and approached Crowley, admiring his catch.  
  
“You’re so beautiful,” breathed Aziraphale as he slowly circled him, stopping here and there to caress and plant little kisses on his bare skin. Crowley blushed under his scrutiny. How sweet.  
He never had the opportunity to simply enjoy Crowley’s body this way.  
  
His eyes lingered over his demon’s lovely pale skin, dusted with little freckles, his slender yet well muscled shoulders, then further south to the soft swell of his buttocks. He reached down to ghost his hand over a cheek, then stroke a finger back and forth in his crevice. He smiled as Crowley’s breath hitched.  
  
“Lovely,” he murmured. “Look at you. You know, I could order you to pose in any way I like, and then open the shop to the public. You would be my art display.”  
He was gratified to see Crowley gulping and flushing a deep red in response.

Aziraphale moved back to the ottoman and sat, legs spread, the bulge in his trousers quite prominent. He crooked a finger at Crowley.  
“Come here. Kneel down.”  
  
Crowley obeyed. It was awkward, getting into a kneeling position with his hands behind him, but he managed.  
  
“A bit closer, dear,” said Aziraphale as he unzipped his trousers, reaching through the fly in his underpants to release his hard cock.  
He stroked it a few times as he reached for his glass of sherry with the other hand. He sipped it as he gazed at his naked demon. There was something unbearably erotic about being clothed while Crowley was naked, on all fours and awaiting his command. His stiff cock was throbbing.  
  
“Now then, Crowley, put that pretty mouth of yours to use.”  
  
Crowley didn’t move. There was a defiant glint in the demon’s eye.  
  
 _Make me_ , he was clearly thinking.  
  
Aziraphale sighed. “ _Suck my cock. Now_. And see you make good use of that lovely forked tongue.” Aziraphale’s tone was stern and his eyes had gone all steely grey.  
  
Pouting, the demon scooted awkwardly into position, knees scraping over the rough texture of the rug, and he slid his mouth over the angel’s plump, erect cock.  
  
“Good boy,” breathed the angel. “Mmm, so nice.”  
  
Crowley tongued the underside of his cock as best he could while moving up and down the angel’s length. Aziraphale buried his fingers in the demon’s hair, alternately petting him and grabbing his locks to pull his head in. But he wouldn’t last long like this.  
  
“Stop,” he ordered.  
  
Aziraphale rose and helped position the demon over the padded ottoman, his bottom thrust up as if in invitation. He was satisfied to see he was hard and leaking. Crowley's hands were still behind him so he could see if he signaled.  
  
Aziraphale took some time to simply admire the view, until Crowley began squirming in frustration.  
  
“No,” Aziraphale ordered, “be still and behave.” He pushed the demon firmly back down and gave him a swat on the arse for good measure.  
  
“Still green, dear?”  
  
There was a nod of the head.  
  
He knelt behind him, still fully dressed with his now very hard aching cock standing out at attention. He badly needed release, but he wanted to savor Crowley. He swept his hands lovingly over his ass, then gently spread him open and bent down to give a few teasing licks over his entrance. This produced lovely little whining noises. He pulled the little container of lube from his pocket slathering his fingers. WIth the other hand he continued to caress him, reaching down between his legs to pet and fondle his balls. Crowley nearly sobbed in frustration. He arched his back, his own erection throbbing by now.  
  
“Shhh, I know, dear, it’s all right,” soothed Aziraphale.  
  
Aziraphale inserted first one slicked finger into him, and then another, slowly into Crowley’s tight entrance. Then he found the spot that drove the demon wild. Crowley moaned beautifully.  
“Would you like to use your voice now? You may, if you wish.”  
  
Finally. “Angel, pleeeease,” Crowley begged.  
  
“Yes, darling? Please what?” asked the angel, fingers still inside him.  
  
“Please fuck me.”  
  
Aziraphale withdrew his fingers. He lined his cock up and entered Crowley fully in one smooth thrust. He stayed still, buried inside him for just a moment, enjoying the heat and the tightness before moving. Soon he was thrusting hard, Crowley moaning wantonly with every push.  
  
Aziraphale braced himself with one arm against the ottoman and reached with the other to grasp the demon’s cock and stroke him. He pounded into him faster and harder now, timing the strokes with each thrust until the demon cried out, spilling hot cum over his hand.  
  
Aziraphale followed, digging his fingers into the flesh of Crowley’s buttocks as his own orgasm rocked him.

After, Azirphale broke the circle by smudging it. Then he miracled them both clean, and into pajamas. He half carried the demon to the sofa where he wrapped him in a soft blanket. He leaned Crowley against him and cuddled him, kissing the top of his head.  
  
The demon sighed contentedly. “Too bad, angel.”  
  
“What’s too bad, dear?”  
  
“Now I can’t call you Pillow Principality.”


End file.
